


A Predictable Way

by Anthem_of_Liones



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Battle Buddies, Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Angst, Banter, Boys In Love, Fake AH Crew, Fiona exists in this au, Flashback scene, Fluff and Angst, Gunshot Wounds, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, I DID TOO MUCH RESEARCH, Jack and Jeremy friendship, Jack being Jack, Jack takes care of his boys, Jeremy "Emotional Support Cowboy" Dooley, M/M, Major Character Injury, Medical Drugs, Mutual Pining, Panic Attacks, Pining, Pining Jeremy Heere, References to Drugs, Shady Government Programs, She takes care of the crew because they won't do it themselves, all the pining, and present, and sits on Matt, army stuff, because they're murder husbands, but not really important, crew doctor!Sarah, get off your ass and tell him Jeremy, hey look Flowers is here, look Sarah Weems is here, painkillers to be precise, plus wyoming, same goes for you Ryan, so much pining, the other fakes are mentioned, the rvb guys are in this au somewhere, these boys have known each other for years, though he's only mentioned once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:50:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21749281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anthem_of_Liones/pseuds/Anthem_of_Liones
Summary: The night after Jeremy’s first heist should have been full of celebration. Instead, he finds himself sitting in the hallway outside Ryan’s operating room praying that he’ll get a chance to tell his Battle Buddy how he’s felt for years.Written as an Extralife stretch goal gift fic.
Relationships: Jeremy Dooley & Jack Pattillo, Jeremy Dooley/Ryan Haywood
Comments: 13
Kudos: 88





	A Predictable Way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShadowSilverstar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowSilverstar/gifts).

> This fic is a gift to ShadowSilverstar (Sootfriend on Discord), the winner of my Extralife fic raffle! 
> 
> I've had a blast writing this thing and honestly, now I have so many ideas for this AU that it's a problem. I'll definitely (probably) be revisiting this AU once some of my other projects are more on their way, but I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also, huge thanks to rebel_raven for editing and allowing me to bounce ideas off of her! Seriously, I love you and can't thank you enough.
> 
> Title comes from the line "Unpredictable in a predictable way" from _Good at Being Bad_ by Jeremy Dooley (AH the Musical). I just feel like that line is such a Battle Buddies mood, and I had to reference it.

The silence in the hallway was deafening, the sudden absence of sound after the near-constant ruckus of the heist resonating strangely in his head, filling it with a ringing fog. He looked down numbly at his shoes, their brown leather shining strangely in the dim light and the tips poking out from the cuffs of his garish yellow pants. He held his hands out, his fingers and the black, fingerless gloves stained with tacky red. They began to shake slightly, and he clenched them into fists, dropping them back to his sides, before he turned right and plodded over to the row of chairs. He sat down heavily, then hunched over, putting his head in his hands and scrubbing at his face, not caring about the still-drying blood that was surely staining his beard and skin. Slowly, the noise from the busy operating room filtered through the muck in his head, the silence becoming less oppressive as he breathed deeply and tried to find anything to focus on and keep him from drowning in the fog permeating his thoughts. 

He ran his hands over his head, briefly wondering where his hat -- oh how Ryan hated that thing -- had gotten to before he remembered that it’d gotten left behind at the bank when they had to book it from cover to the car. It’d been fun; Michael grinning like a goddamned maniac and laughing as they dodged bullets and picked off the cops, the heist somehow going foul despite their flawless execution. But, wasn’t that just their luck? The Fakes, most successful crew turned gang in Los Santos, yet somehow they couldn’t do any sort of crime without drawing the attention of what always seems like every damn cop in the city. 

Of course, he hadn’t experienced a full-blown heist as a Fake before today -- or maybe yesterday, he wasn’t sure of the current time -- and, even with his following of the crew and his work with the body of the gang prior to getting pulled into the main crew, he’d been incredibly unprepared for the “full experience”; for the distracting banter on the coms; for the ease in which everyone slipped into heist mode. For the realization that they’d missed a civilian; for the panicked screaming of Gavin and the angry shouting of Michael as they shoved cash into their bags as fast as they could; for the sheer number of cops that had accumulated outside. For the explosions of grenades; for the deafening rattle of rifle and pistol fire; for the occasional explosion from a well-placed grenade or sticky bomb; for the heavy, acrid scent of smoke and burning metal; for Ryan’s grunt of pain as he slid into the car next to Jeremy. For the car chase of his life; for the dread filling his veins as he watched his partner slump over in the car; for the terror gripping every fiber of his being when the man stopped responding to his panicked cries--

“--eremy, Jeremy! Listen, you need--” 

There’s a voice, smooth, deep, and so much like Ryan’s that for a second his heart fills to bursting with hope, but then it’s panicking, beating out of his chest, and there are hands on his shoulders and he’s suddenly aware that he’s struggling to breathe--

“Jeremy!”

His eyes snap open and he catches a glimpse of a brightly colored shirt and red hair before his head tips back, mouth wide open and eyes closed once more as he takes in large gulps of air. He hears a couple other voices, their murmuring providing a backdrop for his pounding heartbeat, but he focuses on the deep one right next to him, the gentle rumble and the soothing feeling of a hand rubbing circles into his back working wonders to reduce the hammering of blood in his ears. The deep voice says something to the others, and they stop talking. Footsteps follow shortly, the soft tapping slowly fading away. The voice next to him continues its soft mumbling, the hand lazily tracing circle after circle on his back. Jeremy takes one more large breath, letting it completely leave his lungs before he opens his eyes.

“You feeling better?” 

The voice makes sense now that he’s paying attention to the words and not simply the sound. It’s Jack -- of course it’s Jack, who else would it be -- and his face is filled with nothing but concern. His hair and beard are a mess, the usually carefully-maintained locks in a kind of absolute disarray that would have Jeremy in stitches had they been in different circumstances. His Hawaiin shirt hung open, the kevlar vest that usually lay beneath was absent, exposing his white undershirt. Both articles of clothing were splattered slightly with blood, the stains spreading down to his striped shorts.

“I, uh, yeah,” Jeremy croaked, his voice catching on the tightness of his throat. He coughed, trying to clear out the thick feeling. “I’m good. Thanks, uh, for the, well…”

Jack’s brow furrowed and his hand finished its latest rotation before slowly pulling away. Jeremy sat forward in his seat again, eyes flickering away from the other man and settling on the various patches of dirt and small blood-stains dotting the front of his orange shirt. Jack heaved a large sigh and shifted a little. 

“He’s gonna be okay.”

Jeremy’s eyes snapped back up, wide and alert and now level with Jack’s, the other man having sat back on his heels. 

“W-what did you say?” Jeremy asked, his throat tightening once more, choking out any more attempts at vocalizing himself.

“I said, he’ll be okay. Sarah’s in there cleaning him up and Alfredo’s already left to go get some rest.”

Jeremy tilted his head and blinked. “Fredo?” he asked; to his knowledge, his fellow crew-member was just a sniper. Jack chuckled softly.

“Yeah, we all had that reaction. Apparently, he was in med school to become an oral surgeon before his ‘life of crime’ and he’s kept all his certifications just in case.” Jack stopped to take a breath. “Sarah appreciated the help.”

Jeremy bit his lip and looked down again, examining the blood flaking off of his gloves. 

“But, he’ll be alright? He’s not dying?” Jeremy’s voice wobbled slightly, but was stronger than before.

“No, he’s not dying. He’s not quite out of the woods yet, but he should pull through, luck permitting.”

“I, uh, I know it’s probably not allowed, but, uh, can,” he stopped to swallow down his worry, “Can I see him? Just for a little while?”

Jack reached out and gripped his forearm, giving it a small squeeze and leaving his hand there.

“Of course. That’s why I came to get you. Sarah’s staying overnight to make sure nothing goes wrong, but we figured you’d want to stay with him. We all know how close you two are.”

A dry chuckle forced its way up his throat and Jeremy was suddenly aware of wetness in his eyes and the stickiness of his cheeks when he wiped a hand over his face. 

“Yeah, that’s us. Battle Buddies forever and all that.”

Jack gave his arm another squeeze before he stood up, leaning back to stretch his back as he did so. 

“Well, let’s get you in there.”

The two men worked their way back down the hallway, Jack keeping a hand on Jeremy’s back. Jeremy would have thrown it off had they been in a different scenario, but, right now, he appreciated the amount of comfort it gave. They reached Ryan’s room and Jack knocked at the door.

“Come in!” Sarah answered, her voice slightly muffled by the door.

Jeremy grabbed the doorknob, taking a steadying breath and looking up at Jack. The man smiled encouragingly and Jeremy opened the door. He first spotted Sarah, lab coat spotted with blood and hair in disarray, setting up an IV bag next to the single bed in the room. His eyes naturally found their way to Ryan in the bed, fast asleep with a wad of bandages around his thigh. Jeremy stepped forward, only to be stopped by Sarah, the woman suddenly in front of him.

“I know you want nothing more than to sit down at his bedside and keep vigil until you pass out, but you’re not getting anywhere near him until you wash up and change.” 

Jeremy blinked up at her and clenched his jaw, but relented quickly.

“Good. There’s a shirt and a washcloth in the bathroom for you. Wash up while I’m finishing getting the IVs set and we’ll leave you alone for a bit.”

Jeremy looked back at Jack, the other man smiling softly at him, before proceeding to the bathroom. He closed the door once inside and stared at his reflection. His face was smeared with a fine layer of blood from his hands, huge bags under eyes bloodshot from crying. He sighed, peeling off his ruined gloves and removing his dirty shirt. Jeremy then turned on the water, washing his hands by scrubbing furiously at the blood until his skin was red and slightly irritated before giving his face the same treatment. He grabbed a towel from the side of the sink, drying himself off, then looking in the mirror again. His eyes stood out even more now that his face wasn’t coated in general nastiness. Jeremy shook his head, grabbing the clean shirt -- some random graphic tee that he wasn’t even sure was his -- and pulling it on. He took another second to take a deep steadying breath, then exited the bathroom. 

Sarah had progressed to situating blankets and pillows around Ryan, Jack having taken one of the many seats in the room and pulling it next to the bed. She looked up when Jeremy entered, smiling.

“Feel better?” she asked.

Jeremy nodded, already focusing on the man in the bed. Sarah sighed, finished adjusting the top blanket, and turned to pick up a clipboard sitting on a side-table. 

“He’s gonna be just fine, Jeremy. We got him on a blood transfusion for a couple hours and some pain meds. Bullet went clean through, but nicked his femoral artery.”

She stopped at Jeremy’s look of confusion then continued.

“The big one in his leg. That’s why he was bleeding so much. Now, we’ve gotta replace it.”

Jeremy nodded, then walked over to the bed, sitting down in the chair positioned by the headboard. Sarah shared a look with Jack before sighing.

“I’ll be back in a few hours to check on his levels. In the meantime, we’ll let you be alone. Will you be good?”

“Yeah, we’ll be fine.” 

Jeremy gave a weak smile, then turned back to watch Ryan again. Sarah shook her head, then moved out of the room, gesturing for Jack to follow her. They closed the door behind them and, finally, the two were left. Jeremy heaved a large sigh, reaching out to move Ryan’s hair out of his face and he observed the sleeping man. There was no pain or tension in his expression, just a pure peace that was rarely seen when he was awake. Jeremy shifted back into his seat, getting comfortable as he settled in for his vigil. However, it wasn’t long before the day’s events caught up to him, the weariness pulling at his eyelids before he finally fell asleep. 

~~~~~~~

“Eyes up, Dooley.” The voice of his new CO, a Master Sergeant Walls, filtered back to Jeremy from the front of the jeep. “I know you’re not happy with getting transferred, but you need to start getting used to your new assignment. We’re almost to the base.”

Jeremy let out a soft sigh, one not loud enough to be picked up by the officer, and sat up fully. They had been driving for almost two hours through the short, rocky mountains of central Afghanistan after Jeremy had landed at an absolutely tiny airstrip deep in rural Ghazni. He looked out the dust-coated window, trying to catch a glimpse of the aforementioned base, only for the jeep to enter a tunnel. He sat back against his seat, resting his head back and looking up at the roof of the jeep. He closed his eyes, resting for a second before Walls spoke again.

“And there she is; Base Designation: Blood Gulch, home of Operation Talonstrike.”

Jeremy sat up again, pressing his face close to the window to see his “new home” for the first time. They had exited the tunnel and quickly come upon the first signs of civilization since they had started their trek. He caught sight of actual buildings behind a tall, chain-link fence; a step-up from his previous assignment, which had been made up of tents and temporary structures that could be moved with the rest of the company. However, he highly doubted that the compound, no matter how nice it appeared, was just as hot and sandy as his last one. As they approached, a gate became visible, as well as a gatehouse. They stopped, prompting Jeremy to dig through his pockets for his identification and transfer papers. The posted soldier took it, along with cards from both the driver and Walls, and examined them carefully before opening the gate and waving them through. 

Jeremy cast a glance at the front of the car only to see his CO watching him in the mirror. He quickly turned his eyes back to the window to examine the base further. Most of it was the usual tan-colored buildings with sandy, dirt roads. He spotted a couple of buildings with the distinctly “military” concrete walls. They were laid out in the usual grid-like pattern, though the base itself was quite a bit smaller than the ones back on home soil; the result of being a facility that technically didn’t exist, he supposed. Most surprising was the lack of soldiers. Usually, as was the norm at every permanent base he’d been stationed at, soldiers could be found running drills. The time of day, the day of the week, nor the weather seemed to matter; Sergeants loved to run their squads through their paces. However, Jeremy had yet to see more than the occasional pair of soldiers walking around. He filed the question away for later, when he could ask someone who wasn’t his CO about it. 

The vehicle slowed suddenly, turning and coming to a stop just outside one of the concrete buildings. 

“Grab your bag,” Walls ordered, climbing out of the jeep, “I’m to bring you to meet the Colonel before you get your bunk assignment.”

Jeremy scrambled, grabbing his heavy backpack with one arm and throwing open the door then dropping down onto the sandy ground. He glanced at the older man, shouldering his bag and standing straight up.

“Right, sir,” he answered, thanking the powers that be that his voice had held despite his silence for the past few hours. 

His CO waved to the driver, dismissing the man, before gesturing for Jeremy to follow him. Together, the two entered the building through the metal-plate door and proceeded through the halls. The interior of the building was just as bland as the outside, all blank, gray walls with buzzing fluorescent lights and mostly-open doorways. Quick glances into some of the rooms revealed what appeared to be empty classrooms and conference rooms, with some other miscellaneous, mostly-empty rooms mixed in. They turned a corner and Walls pushed open another metal door, revealing a staircase, before descending a level. 

Walls guided Jeremy through a couple more halls, this time passing a few other soldiers on their way, before stopping at another metal door. The man knocked, then placed his hand on the handle, waiting for the go-ahead. A muffled voice called a greeting from inside, and Walls opened the door, gesturing for Jeremy to follow him in. The room was more decorated than any other room they had passed, with a vibrant red patterned rug filling the center of the room and a nice, heavy-looking wooden desk in the center. Sitting at the desk was a middle-aged man in full uniform with salt-and-pepper hair cut to a little longer than regulation-short, a small pencil-stache, and smile lines around his eyes. Walls stood straight up and saluted the man, Jeremy immediately following as the man set down a pen and stood up. 

“Ah yes, Master Sergeant Walls, I was wondering where you’d gotten to with our newest member.” The man’s voice was higher pitched than Jeremy had expected, but full of warmth and a certain hardness that made him relax almost reflexively. 

“We’ve just arrived, sir.”

“Good, good. At ease, soldiers.”

Walls put his hand down, but maintained his rigid stance as the man sat back down, picking his pen back up and moving it to the side. Jeremy stood a bit more casually, eyes darting around the room. He caught a glimpse of several medals on display on shelves and maps of various places tacked to the walls before he refocused on the sitting man.

“Corporal Dooley, this is Colonel Flowers, the head of the operation here at Blood Gulch.” 

“Master Sergeant, I’ve told you before, you can relax. You’ve been here long enough to know that we don’t exactly adhere to the terribly rigid command structure that exists at more… well, legitimate outfits.”

“With all due respect sir-”

“Yes, yes, I’ve heard it all before. Still, a little relaxation goes a long way, Walls. Do we need to have another team bonding exercise with the officers?”

Jeremy couldn’t see his face, but from the way his whole body tensed, he could assume that his CO did not want another “team bonding exercise”. 

“Now, if you’d be an absolute dear, do you mind fetching Sergeant Haywood for me?”

“Yes sir, of course, sir.” Walls’s voice was tight with discomfort, but he did not move despite the obvious dismissal.

“Oh, right, yes. You’re dismissed, soldier.”

Walls sped out of the office, clearly wanting to be as far from Flowers as possible as soon as he could. The Colonel chuckled a bit before refocusing on Jeremy.

“Corporal Dooley, come a bit closer if you would.”

He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and stepped forward, playing with a strap hanging from his backpack as he did so. 

“Now, I’m sure you have your share of questions about your transfer and promotion, do you not?”

Jeremy nodded and Flowers hummed a bit, shuffling papers on his desk.

“Well, according to reports from both your officers in basic and your previous CO, you have a certain talent for so-called ‘shadow ops’ as well as all the makings of a fine soldier. And, of course, you’re young enough to be able to take full advantage of the opportunity presented to you.”

Jeremy’s confusion must have shown on his face because the man smiled brightly and laughed once more.

“I’m not surprised that you don’t know much. After all, we don’t technically exist as far as the rest of the army is concerned and Walls isn’t one to even bend the rules and let you in on anything. Here at Blood Gulch, we handle missions that are too high risk and sensitive for normal outfits to handle, but aren’t so secret that one of the quote-unquote conspiracy agencies needs to handle. You getting me?”

Jeremy nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Good, good. As for your purpose, well, we’ve recently lost a soldier to a mission, an unusual occurrence, I assure you, and needed a replacement and your records all point to you being exactly the type of soldier to handle this kind of work.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“No problem, no problem at all. Now, did you have any questions?”

Jeremy bit his lip, casting another look around the office, taking note of the framed pictures and the sniper-rifle themed calendar on the wall before turning back to the Colonel.

“Don’t be shy, Dooley, I don’t bite.”

The smile he gave should have put Jeremy more at ease, but something about the way his perfect, white teeth gleamed in the light was very off-putting.

“You mentioned losing soldiers, where do you lose them too, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Flowers’s smile grew larger still, his eyes flashing unnervingly before he answered. 

“A good question, a very good question. To be simple, they get recruited much in the same manner that you did. Our operation, among a few others, acts as a feeding pool for other, more top-secret operations and agencies. They often send scouts to find soldiers that they believe will make good fits for their particular needs and bring them in for more specialized evaluation.”

A knock sounded at the door, startling Jeremy slightly, but only causing the Colonel’s smile to grow impossibly more. 

“That must be Haywood. Come in!”

Jeremy turned his head to look back at the door as it opened, letting in another soldier. He walked forwards, tossing up a lazy salute before turning to look down at Jeremy. The man was dressed in his fatigues and definitely a full head taller than Jeremy. His light brown hair was definitely longer than regulation, but he was clean-shaven and young, probably only a few years older than himself. 

“Sergeant Haywood, so glad you could join us.”

“Sir,” Haywood’s voice was startlingly deep, “What did you need me for?”

“This is Corporal Dooley, and he’s to be your new Battle Buddy.”

Jeremy looked to the Colonel, surprised, but caught Haywood’s whole body tensing violently out of the corner of his eye. 

“Sir, with all due respect-”

“None of that Haywood. I’m well aware that you were close with the late Greenbourne, but you’ve passed the allotted grieving time and you need a new battle buddy if you want to get any assignments and work towards getting scouted.”

“I’ve told you that I can work alone!” Haywood’s whole body was shaking, his fists and jaw clenched tight.

“And I’ve said many a time that you cannot.” Flowers let out a long breath as he pinched his brow. “I understand, I really do, but we need your skills and Dooley is a very good soldier. He won’t take long to get up to speed and you’ll be right back in the game in no time. Now, do I make myself clear?”

“Sir-”

“Do. I. Make myself clear, soldier?”

Haywood took a deep breath, some of the tension leaving him and he flashed a sour look to Jeremy.

“Yessir.”

“Good, good. Now, I expect you to have the Corporal settled in and shown around by the battle games tonight, understood? Dismissed.”

The Colonel retrieved his discarded pen and shifted a few papers on his desk. When neither Jeremy nor Haywood made a move to leave, he looked back up.

“I said ‘dismissed’, soldier. Leave me be so I can get some of this paperwork done.”

The Sergeant turned around, quickly exiting the room. Jeremy cast one last look at the Colonel before he followed, finding himself to have to jog to keep up with the other man’s long strides. They passed a few soldiers, all of whom moved out of their way except one: a black-haired man with an incredible mustache and dressed in white fatigues who was walking in the opposite direction. He gave the two of them a long look, meeting Haywood’s eyes before giving Jeremy a small wink and stepping to the side. Haywood plowed onwards, apparently undeterred by the small hang-up, but Jeremy gave the other soldier a small wave as he continued to jog. 

They reached the staircase and Haywood forged on, not even bothering to make sure Jeremy was still following. He followed the other man up the stairs and onto the ground floor before finally speaking up.

“Um, Sergeant Haywood, sir, I, I just wanted to-”

Haywood cut him off, spinning around quickly and pinning him against a wall, arm pressing across his chest and a snarl on his face.

“I don’t want to hear it. As far as I’m concerned, you’re temporary, a poorly conceived replacement so I can finish my tenure here and move onto better things, got it?”

This close, Jeremy was able to clearly see the bright blue of the man’s eyes, and the clear anger and frustration that filled them. He gulped, then nodded as best as he could.

“Good. Now, I have to show you your bunk and make sure you know your way around so you don’t disgrace me at the games tonight. Follow close, I don’t want to leave you behind.”

Haywood let Jeremy up, watching carefully as the shorter man readjusted his bag on his back before turning back around and striking towards the entrance at the same quick pace. 

_ Look what you’ve gotten yourself into this time, Dooley. _

~~~~~~~

Jeremy drifted awake to a hand rubbing the back of his neck and someone humming a vaguely familiar tune, the soft beeping of hospital equipment reminding him where he was. He remained still, relishing in the way the ache in his neck diminished the more the hand pressed small circles into his skin and attempting to follow the small thread of memory the song tugged on. He shifted slightly, trying to maneuver himself to allow the hand to get a particularly bad spot before he suddenly remembered where he was. 

Jeremy’s eyes shot open and he sat up violently, the crappy chair beneath him creaking in protest. The humming abruptly cut off, a quick inhale resulting from the sudden movement. Jeremy took a moment to refocus on his surroundings, the most important being the injured, now-very-awake and startled-looking man laid out in the hospital bed that Jeremy had just been conked out on. 

“Ry-Ryan?” Jeremy choked out, his voice still thick and heavy with sleep.

“Hey, J.” Ryan’s voice was also thick, slurred slightly from the heavy painkillers still circulating his system. “You were sleepin’. I do-didn’t wanna wake ya, since ya looked like you needed it.”

Jeremy scanned his form, eyes lingering on the bulge of bandages on his leg before making their way back up to the older man’s face. Ryan was smiling softly, his eyes also taking inventory of Jeremy’s form. The two made eye contact and Ryan’s smile grew wider.

“You’re okay.”

It was spoken as a statement, but Jeremy could hear the note of worry, the slight hint of a question that always permeated Ryan’s affirmations. 

“Just a few scratches and the near heart attack you gave me,” Jeremy answered, pointing an accusatory finger at the blond who just smiled wider in response.

“I’m glad. I was worried.”

Ryan reached out, taking hold of Jeremy’s left hand and squeezing it. Jeremy averted his eyes, but squeezed back and allowed Ryan to start rubbing the top of his hand with his thumb.

“Oh!” Jeremy lurched up, reaching for and pressing the red button next to the beeping heart monitor. “I’ve gotta let Sarah know you’re awake. She’s gotta come in and check your dosage and all kinds of other medical things that I didn’t bother to listen to.”

Ryan chuckled, another dopey smile filling his face slowly before he furrows his brow in confusion. He reaches out with his free hand and pokes Jeremy’s head, running his fingers over the bare skin.

“Why did you shave?” 

Jeremy blinked, then he squinted, examining Ryan’s face further, noting the fogginess in his eyes and the slowness of his expressions.  _ Jesus, he’s high off his ass.  _

“I decided to try something different.”

Ryan frowned, the expression way more prominent with the drugs in his system, turning what is usually a simple downturn of his mouth into a full pout. 

“But I liked your hair.” 

Jeremy laughed and reached up, batting the offending hand away.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure you’ll get over it, big boy.”

The other man actually pouted this time, pulling his hand from where he still held Jeremy’s to cross his arms and turn his head away like a child. Jeremy sighed, shaking his head before something occurred to him. He reached out to try and get his attention.

“Ryan?” Jeremy prompted, touching his arm lightly.

“What?” Ryan whined back, refusing to look at the other man.

“Do, well, do you remember how you got here?”

The man was silent for a bit, contemplating his answer before he turned to look fully at Jeremy.

“Kinda. It’s all a blur really. I know the heist went to shit. I’m pretty sure I got shot and you…” He trailed off, scanning what he could see of Jeremy’s body thoroughly. “How long?”

“What?”

“You’re not in your heist clothes. How long have I been out?”

“It’s been about a day-and-a-half. You needed a transfusion and I think Sarah’s been keeping you under so you could rest.”

Ryan hummed in affirmation then fell silent, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Jeremy opened his mouth to ask what he was thinking about, but was interrupted by Sarah’s,

“Knock, knock”.

Her words were mirrored by her knocking at the door frame, causing the two men to jump slightly and to flick their gazes to the door. “Am I good to make sure my patient’s not gonna keel over now that he’s conscious?”

She was already leaning into the room slightly, and Jeremy nodded, casting a quick glance at Ryan to gauge his reaction before answering verbally.

“Sure thing, Doc. I think you need to check his meds though. Idiot’s brain’s more mush than normal.”

Sarah laughed -- Ryan letting out a disgruntled “Hey!” at Jeremy’s words and continuing to pout -- and stepped fully into the room. She looked better than she did when Jeremy had seen her, appearing refreshed and rested, her pristine white lab coat over jeans and a nicer blouse and her hair pulled back into a messy bun. 

“Let me check the dosage. I usually err on the side of higher with him.” 

The pseudo-doctor moved around the other side of the bed, checking the IV bags and marking something down on the clipboard she always seemed to have on her person. Ryan watched her with a curious, but empty, look, then he started humming that same tune again and turned to look at Jeremy instead. He reached out with his hand again and Jeremy took it without hesitation. 

“Okay, I just need to make sure you haven’t done anything to your bandages or stitches and I’ll leave you two in peace for a while.”

Sarah shifted the quilt -- a lighter patchwork thing that Jack or someone else had picked up along the way instead of a thin, scratchy blanket usually found in hospitals -- away from Ryan’s leg and began to poke and examine the bandages. The man himself leaned over closer to Jeremy and gestured for him to lean in before whispering loudly right into his ear.

“I like her better than Doc. She knows what she’s doin’ and isn’t tryin’ to pass off in-com-pe-tance-” his face was filled with a solemn sort of certainty as he sounded out the word, “-as the lack of trainin’.”

Sarah threw back her head and laughed, Ryan startling at the outburst and then trying to hide behind Jeremy in his embarrassment. Jeremy moved out of the way immediately, shoving the other man’s head away and ignoring the look of betrayal. 

“I’ll take the compliment, Haywood,” Sarah said after she finished laughing. She patted the lump of bandages and moved the quilt back over his leg. “Now, I’m gonna let the current dose run its course for a bit longer before I give him more meds.” She glared at the bed-ridden man, pointing a finger at him. “I expect you to let me know if the pain gets above a normal ache, you understand? I’ve had it up to here with you refusing pain meds because you think you can handle it.” 

Ryan just stared wide-eyed at her, slightly cowed at the sudden show of will after her previously-soft bedside manner. She then turned to look at Jeremy, still glaring.

“As for you, I’d really like it if you actually got some sleep in a bed, but with  _ him _ here you’re not likely to get it for a while if no one forces you from the room. Take breaks, get something to eat, and make sure your lump of a partner doesn’t tear his stitches doing something stupid like trying to go to the bathroom by himself.” 

Jeremy nodded solemnly, then glanced at Ryan who was smiling sheepishly at the woman. 

“I’ll do my best, Sarah,” Jeremy answered, still looking pointedly at the other man.

“See that you do. Now, I’ll wait a bit before alerting the cavalry that Ryan’s awake so you two can have a little more time to yourselves before getting mobbed.”

“Thank you.”

Sarah smiled warmly, shifting her clipboard to one hand.

“It’s no problem, J. Don’t forget to call if you need anything.”

With that parting statement, she left the room, waving as she shut the door behind her. Jeremy let out a small breath then looked back at Ryan. The man was staring at the lump of his bandages with a look of deep concentration on his face. 

“Ry? You okay?” Jeremy asked, concern leaking into the question.

“What happened? Is everyone else okay?” Ryan’s eyes snapped up, staring right at Jeremy, but struggling to focus through the fog of the meds still circulating his system.

“It was just you, buddy.” 

At Ryan’s look of doubt, Jeremy reached out and grabbed his hand.

“I’m serious, Ry. I’m not covering so you can be spared of guilt. The heist went to shit because we, no  _ I _ , missed a civilian and they called the cops on us.”

“Jer-”

“No, Ryan. I screwed it all up and went and forgot to check the bathrooms and your leg got shot out from under you as you were getting into the car. I--” Jeremy stopped, taking a hitched breath as his throat closed up. 

“I had to, I, you were bleeding everywhere and I, I couldn’t stop it. I pulled off my jacket and put on pressure and all I could do was, was to yell at Jack to drive faster and keep talking to you. And then you stopped responding and, and I--” Jeremy stopped talking altogether, the lump lodged in his throat preventing him from continuing as tears started to drip down his face.

“No, no, Jeremy. Nothing that happened was your fault.” Ryan clasped both of Jeremy’s hands in one of his, using the other to wipe at the tears. “We all should have made sure to check the bathroom. Besides, it’s always something. If it wasn’t that, Geoff could have taken his eyes off a clerk for too long, allowing them to hit the alarm. Gavin and Michael could have tripped the alarm getting into the vault. Hell, if anything, it’s my own damn fault for not making sure we all were getting covered trying to get away.”

At this point, tears were also falling down Ryan’s face, and he dropped his hand from where it had settled on Jeremy’s cheek to the bed. He hung his head and let out a single sob. Jeremy wiggled one of his hands out from Ryan’s and wiped at his own face, leaving the other to grab a firm hold of Ryan’s hand. The two sat there for a couple moments, allowing themselves to cry a bit. Jeremy shook his head and laughed wetly.

“Look at us assholes, sittin’ around cryin’ about nothing. The Colonel’d have a fit if he saw us now.”

Ryan chuckled, shaking his head and smiling.

“Yeah, he’d be overjoyed. All those times he tried to get us to have a heart-to-heart, tears and all?”

Jeremy snorted, already feeling better. 

“Oh yeah. The fucking wedding? With Simmons officiating?”

The other man full laughed this time, tipping his head back.

“Jesus. I’d forgotten about that. ‘I now pronounce you Battle Buddy and Battle Buddy’. What a shit show.”

“Doc and Donut cried their eyes out.”

The two laughed a little, falling silent as both wiped the remainder of their tears away and they settled in. Ryan began humming again, and, suddenly, Jeremy remembered where he’d heard it.

“Ryan, you’re humming that  _ fucking _ song Donut would sing when he was on an ‘interior decorating binge’.”

“No, I’m not.” Ryan stopped humming immediately and paled slightly, backing away from Jeremy the best he could while laid out in bed.

“Yes, you _ fucking _ are.”

“Nooo. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Haywood, I swear to God-”

Ryan fully turned away, Jeremy glaring at him. They stayed like that for a moment before Ryan turned back, his mouth quirked into a smirk.

“You fucker!”

“I swear I didn’t know. I had no idea what it was until you mentioned it and I couldn’t just admit it!”

Jeremy sighed, shaking his head.

“Really, though? Of all the songs you could be singing to me as I slept it had to be the one full of gay innuendos.”

Ryan’s smirk grew into a shit-eating grin and he waggled his eyebrows. Jeremy rolled his eyes and shoved the other man’s head away.

“Why do I put up with your shit?”

“Cuz you  _ looove  _ me.”

“Sure do, you big idiot.”

The two fell into silence once more, Ryan smiling in genuine happiness and Jeremy looking down to where their hands were still connected. His eyes drifted over to the lump of bandages and then up to Ryan’s face before flicking back down.

“I really am sorry. It was my fault you got hit and-”

“Don’t you dare, Dooley. It was  _ my _ fault for being in the line of fire anyways-”

“But you wouldn’t have been there if I hadn’t gotten us caught-”

“And I should have made sure you remembered everything. It was your first heist, you’re not gonna be perfect every time.”

“But I have to be, Ryan!”

Ryan, whose mouth was open for another retort snapped shut as he watched Jeremy tighten his jaw and squeeze his hand.

“I have to make sure I don’t mess up.”

“Everyone makes mistakes, J.”

“Mistakes that almost get their partners killed, Ry? If that bullet had been a tiny bit in either direction it could have shattered your femur and ended your career, or hit your femoral artery and you’d have bled out on the ride back.”

“But it didn’t. I’m okay.”

Ryan squeezed Jeremy’s hand then leaned in to cup his cheek, ignoring the tears spilling down his partner's face once more

“I’m not going anywhere, Jeremy.”

The two sat there for a bit, simply enjoying each other’s company before the sound of the rest of the crew coming down the hallway filtered into the room. They had time to separate and for Jeremy to wipe his face again before the door burst open.

“Ryan!” everyone shouted, piling into the room. 

“Hey guys, I hear that we made out good?” Ryan shot a look to Jeremy, smiling a bit as the others began to all talk over each other.

“Hey, assholes! Shut up!” Geoff’s voice cut above everyone and they all fell silent, Michael jabbing Gavin in the kidney one last time, the brit letting out a squawk of protest before quieting and rubbing the spot, giving the other man the stink-eye.

“Thank you. Jack?” The gent looked towards his second, the other man giving him a grateful smile.

“Alright, I know we all wanna let him know what happened and update him on everything, so why don’t we take turns?” 

The proposition was met with a general sound of agreement with Geoff calling immediate dibs.

“You can’t call dibs!” Trevor protested.

“Sure I can! I’m the boss!” Geoff turned to face the younger man, scowling.

“Not anymore you aren’t,” Michael muttered to Gavin, smiling.

“Hey! I heard that, dickhead!” 

Everyone laughed, but began to settle down, finding chairs and other random spots to sit in the room, Fiona simply deciding to sit on top of Matt and Gavin, Michael, and Lindsay all sharing two chairs collectively. Geoff then launched into the story, embellishing his own contributions to the chagrin of Alfredo, who protested loudly, which in turn set off everyone else to start vehemently telling their own version of the heist. Jack, who had settled in next to Jeremy, leaned in and murmured to the Lad,

“You okay? I hope the others aren’t being too loud.”

“Nah, it’s good for Ryan to see the others. I’ve told him that everyone came out okay, but he doesn’t believe me all the way until he’s seen everyone personally.”

Jack hummed in agreement and squeezed the Lad’s shoulder before settling back and listening to the chaos. Jeremy watched Ryan, smiling at the look of bafflement as he listened to Gavin’s tale of his and Michael’s foray into the vault. 

_ Fuck, I’ve got it bad. _

Michael interjected, adding in something about Gavin almost setting off the alarm because he got distracted by the pattern of the tile and the resulting outcry of “I did not, Michael. You’re such an idiot, Michael! You promised you wouldn’t tell, Michael!” drew out a loud laugh from Ryan and everyone else. 

_ No more messing around. I can’t keep going like this. _

Fiona threw in a scathing remark about Geoff’s shooting ability, causing the gent to shout in protest and the whole room to start adding in their two cents on the topic. Geoff shouted louder in retaliation.

“I’ll fire you all, I swear it!”

Everyone laughed, then started sharing other times that Geoff had claimed the same thing.

_ Later, when I’m sure he’s not still high off his ass and he’s had more time to rest. I gotta, before it’s too late and I lose the chance forever. _

**Author's Note:**

> Some of my fav bits of commentary that RR left:
> 
> "bell-bottom yellow pants are indeed a fashion statement"
> 
> "Fuckin run, Dooley-- Oop, too late"
> 
> "ahh, the start of the homoerotic fight scene. you're gonna fall for him Haywood"
> 
> "words that will be more literal later. and by that I mean, he fucking yote himself into love with that man"
> 
> "bitch please. in literally a month he's gonna become your emotional support Battle Buddy, and then your emotional support cowboy"
> 
> "Local Cryptid Bastard man turns into Baby when doped up on drugs, sources confirm"
> 
> "aawwww!! I swear I can smell the sap and pine trees from here"


End file.
